Ride the Tide (Deep Six #3) - Julie Ann Walker Page 0,112

chagrined when the nurse glowered his way. A wink and a flash of that big Montana grin and Nurse Ratched’s stone-cold heart melted. She blushed and glanced demurely back to her computer screen.

“Works out for you guys, though,” Fazzle said. “You won’t have the press crawling up your ass looking for interviews. It’ll be like it never happened.”

“Ya-huh.” Mason nodded. “And I’d stomach that just fine if Gellman wasn’t walking around a free man. If Madam President is trying to sweep this whole thing under the rug, how’s that gonna affect the search for the fuckface?”

Fazzle’s irritated expression said it all.

“She’s not gonna put a task force on this, is she?” Mason’s tone was laced with disgust.

Reluctantly, Fazzle shook his head.

Mason felt a hard jolt of anger, but it was quickly replaced by certainty. He knew what he had to do. It was the only thing to do to make sure everyone on Wayfarer Island could sleep securely in their beds at night.

“And what would Madam President say if one of us were to go after him? ’Cause I gotta feeling if Gellman’s not stopped, he’s gonna find a way to fuck us over again. It’s personal now. I saw that in his face.”

“Gellman isn’t in the States. And what happens outside our borders?” A wily grin played with the corners of Fazzle’s lips. “Well, she doesn’t have any say over that, now does she?” Then he sobered. “If you catch him alive, call me. I’ll make sure he’s held accountable. If you don’t catch him alive…” Fazzle let the sentence dangle and pinned a look on Mason. “Then I don’t want to know about it.”

Mason nodded his understanding and then took the hand Fazzle offered him. “Stay out of trouble,” the fed said.

“We try.” Doc shook Fazzle’s hand as well. “But the damn stuff follows us.”

“So it would seem.” The FBI agent spun on his heel and started up the hallway toward the bank of elevators.

After Fazzle disappeared behind the sliding silver doors, Doc said, “I’m coming with you, of course.”

“You don’t hafta.”

“But see?” Doc gently cupped Mason’s cheek. “I do. Because you complete me.”

“Fuck off.” Mason shook Doc’s hand away.

Doc laughed and then his eyes landed on something beyond Mason’s shoulder. “Baby Bear.”

Mason stiffened, not wanting to turn but unable to help himself.

Alex headed toward them, her short legs eating up the distance, her eyes firmly—and frightfully—fixed on his. He looked around for an escape route. She’d been trying to corner him all day. And he knew damned well why.

She wanted to pick up the conversation they’d been having in his bedroom before the shit went down. Which was the dead last thing in the world he wanted to do.

He already hated himself for who he was, the sort of man who’d never be what she needed or deserved. But if he saw that hurt look in her eyes one more time, he might just be tempted to eat his own M4 for dinner.

“Doc, if he tries to run,” Alex called, having accurately read Mason’s expression, “tackle him to the ground.”

Doc obediently placed a restraining hand on Mason’s shoulder and leaned over to whisper close to his ear, “Despite your willful pursuit of ignorance on the matter, I think you know, deep down, that the pain we suffer for love is always worth it.”

Bitter cold washed down Mason’s length.

Doc knew.

Well, of course Doc knew. Because they’d been friends and teammates and partners for the better part of a decade. And because they’d been through countless battles together, which had a tendency to suck all the gray out of anyone’s personality and leave only the black and white behind.

For instance, Mason knew when Doc got that faraway look in his eye, he was thinking about his dead wife. And when Doc said he needed to go see a woman about a horse, he wasn’t really looking for sexual gratification, but instead seeking a little comfort in the arms of a stranger.

So, yeah. It wasn’t a surprise that Doc could read Mason as easily as Mason could read Doc.

“It’s not my pain I’m worried about,” he hissed from the side of his mouth, and then straightened because Alex now stood in front of him, flame hair wild around her face, hands planted firmly on her hips. She looked like a little tyrant.

Since they’d arrived in Key West in swim trunks or, in Alex’s case, a sexy-without-trying-too-hard set of sleep shorts, yesterday Romeo had made a round trip to Wayfarer Island